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Submitted to Contest #302
Christy, Christy, Christy. What a character. Christy Welch was born in 1975 in the same place as his mother, his father and all generations before him: in Knockmacdoon, County Waterford, Ireland. It was a known fact that the Welchs could never conceive more than one child. By God, everyone in the village knew that they tried; in the pub, in the shops, even in Sunday mass. If they were to be successful, they’d have more offspring than a frog would have a knot of tadpoles. Christy wasn’t the brightest spark but he sure did have charisma. He wa...
Submitted to Contest #294
"Tell me the truth! Where are you from?" Yannuk roared, leader of the Gubis, a notorious, nomadic Southern Desert clan. In his teepee kneeled a young woman bound by the ankles and wrists. She wore a dirty, white satin tunic and breeches. Her brunette hair escaped from under her sand-dusted headscarf. Around her tired eyes, a darkened mixture of sand and sweat stuck to her skin. Other than that, the rest of her face remained untouched.Inside the teepee stood a few wooden chests and a bed of dried rushes wrapped in linen. A lantern sat next to...
Submitted to Contest #290
TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of deathI didn't expect to wake up again once my eyes closed for what I thought was the very last time. It was a peaceful moment. I had anticipated it for a while but I didn't expect it to feel so serene. The doctors told me I was terminal. They had given me three months to live but I managed to make it to six.As my body gave me my last breath, I felt the soft touch of my wife's hand in mine and watched the hospital room around me darken as I fell into eternal rest. The last thing I saw was her face wearing a brave ...
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